I don’t know why Chad rolls his eyes at me, shakes his head or goes into a trance like the dingbats do when I’m lecturing them in the barn about accepting ‘that pig’ as part of the family…because I’m trying to share a great idea that I came up with that would be fun!
This morning I snuggled up to my half awake better half and shared one of my best ideas with my loving, wants to please me by fulfilling all my wishes hubby before his brain fully woke up!
Chippie is turning 10 this Fall! 10! That’s a big birthday for Mr Growly! So I thought we could throw him a huge party here at the farm! We could invite all 5000 Facebook followers, make a huge bonfire that the satellites could see from space, have a cake where pretty little doggies dressed in frilly pink tutus could jump out of, make the llamas wear party hats, teach Remi (Chad’s pig) to grunt out the happy birthday song, and have the goats learn a tap dance as the band we hired playes ‘How much is that doggie in the window!’
I rambled on and on about invitations with chippies paw print on it, the gifts I could buy him, how Chad could give Dunkay a bath so he looks dapper, everyone wear a doggie bone hat, games we could play such as pin the feather on the turkey or dunk for chicken feet also affectionately known as Chicken Paws (🤢), have doggie races, set up a photo booth where folks can take pics with a snarling chippie…you know…fun stuff!
I happily chit chatted for over an hour to my hubby who was trapped between me and the wall, so he had to listen to every exciting detail!
I got done with all my plans for him making chippies dream party come true, sat up and asked him what he thought! Should I start working on the invites now? Do I start calling around for a baker who has dancing dogs that jump out of cakes? What kind of band should we hire?
What man what? Help me out here!
Chaddie looked at me with both eyes opened now, and said, “you have finally lost it and I’m not doing any of it! We’re not have having a stupid party for a dog!!”
I thought about it for a almost 3.7 seconds and agreed…instead we’ll make it a private family party (and only half of the Facebook follows) without the dancing dogs leaping out of a 10 foot cake, we’ll just have a 6 foot long doggie bone cake made out of rawhide! We will hire a DJ instead that plays Old McDonald along with other fun farm songs all night! It’ll just be us, a grandchild or two, or three or four or five or six or seven (I’ve lost count!)…but our animal’s have to wear party hats and hum, scream, grunt, winnie, crow, quack and baaaaa out the happy birthday song that HE will teach them to do lined up like little soldiers! And the one thing my faithful hubby must do…give that donkey a bath and brush out those llamas!
See, I can compromise!